Rejected No More: The Genius's Revenge

The bus ride home felt different. Arlis held the offer letter in his lap, his thumb brushing over the embossed city seal.

He called home. "I got it."

The scream from his mother nearly blew out the speaker.

When the bus pulled into town, Arlis saw the diner. It was draped in streamers. A haphazard sign painted on a bedsheet hung over the entrance: CONGRATS ARLIS - OUR BOY'S GOING TO CITY HALL!

He laughed, a dry, choked sound.

He walked in, and the applause hit him. Everyone stood up. Even Mrs. Gable was clapping, a fake, ingratiating smile plastered on her face.

"I always knew you were special," she cooed, patting his arm.

Arlis nodded politely. Vultures, he thought. All of them.

Dinner was steak. The best cut Frank had. Martha opened a bottle of wine covered in dust.

"We were saving this for your wedding," she said, her voice catching.

The mention of the wedding hung in the air. Hailee.

"This is better than a wedding, Mom," Arlis said, raising his glass. "This is our future."

Frank was drunk on pride and wine. "Zimmerman," he kept saying. "They're gonna know the name Zimmerman."

Later, in his room, Arlis lay in the dark. The adrenaline was fading, leaving him cold and calculating.

He needed allies. He thought of Deedee Battle. In his past life, she became the Administrative Director. Right now, she was just a clerk. He needed to find her.

His phone buzzed. Unknown number.

"Zimmerman."

"Mr. Zimmerman? This is Warren Sterling, CEO of Apex Prep."

Arlis sat up. Apex was the biggest test prep company in the state.

"I'm listening."

"Your score... 97. It's impossible. My sources at the Personnel Board are calling it a miracle. They also passed along your contact info, hoping you might be open to a business proposition. I want to buy your strategy. Exclusive rights. Name your price."

Arlis smiled in the dark. Money. He needed money.

"My strategy isn't for sale, Mr. Sterling. But my consulting services might be."

He hung up. A car engine roared outside. Tires screeched.

Arlis walked to the window. Below, a red convertible was parked haphazardly. Hailee stumbled out, looking disheveled. She was drunk.

"Arlis!" she screamed at the dark window. "Arlis, come out!"

He watched her from behind the curtain.

"You did this for me!" she sobbed. "I know you did! You're trying to prove you're good enough! Well, you proved it! Come down!"

She looked pathetic. Small.

Arlis reached out and grabbed the heavy velvet curtains. He pulled them shut, blocking out the sight of her, blocking out the sound of her voice.

He walked back to his bed and lay down. He closed his eyes.

Tomorrow, the real war began.